Owed to Spring
Three in praise of San Lorenzo de 415
By Mathilde Xue
1
In another life I was a dump truck
each morning
hauling
débris fro and to
quarries of ancient grief
Inexhaustible the labor
not I
Of all the stones I carried –
kept but one
which I commend to you:
to rest upon
leaves
which otherwise
scatter with every
cold
spring
blow
2
Black bain’t
White cain’t
Green hain’t
Yellow wain’t
Hah! We all shades now –
Sister I azure you:
beauty Brother
look no Father
viole(n)t
Rouge
M(n)other
3
Shebig
worm
waves arms-legs
and and
desiring unto her vaguest
nerve unfurls l’
espirit d’anarchie –
lo, earthgrow:
Shebig
worm
doth turn turn
rock
doth
over
ever
flow
Three in praise of San Lorenzo de 415
By Mathilde Xue
1
In another life I was a dump truck
each morning
hauling
débris fro and to
quarries of ancient grief
Inexhaustible the labor
not I
Of all the stones I carried –
kept but one
which I commend to you:
to rest upon
leaves
which otherwise
scatter with every
cold
spring
blow
2
Black bain’t
White cain’t
Green hain’t
Yellow wain’t
Hah! We all shades now –
Sister I azure you:
beauty Brother
look no Father
viole(n)t
Rouge
M(n)other
3
Shebig
worm
waves arms-legs
and and
desiring unto her vaguest
nerve unfurls l’
espirit d’anarchie –
lo, earthgrow:
Shebig
worm
doth turn turn
rock
doth
over
ever
flow